


Say Uncle

by Kitty_Forever



Category: Original Work
Genre: Accidental Plot, Multi, Original Fiction, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, brainchild gone rogue, i don’t know what i’m doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_Forever/pseuds/Kitty_Forever
Summary: This idea came from the most recent episode of Jonny Test that I watched. It was about Jonny and Dukey playing a game of “say uncle” which became so epic it involved his sisters who then involved their parents.So my brain said “what if you take the say uncle game and dial it to 20?” And thus this brainchild was born.Mild horror. Sex. Intrigue. (I can’t say how much of the intrigue there will be though) Don’t say I didn’t warn you.





	Say Uncle

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all. Been ages. I haven’t posted any more because I feel like I need a beta in order to post anything. So this is an experiment mostly for myself. This story is completely un-beta-ed except by myself and the lovey auto correct. 
> 
> Currently this story is not related to any fandoms and is 100% my imagination at work. Any similarities in names, characterization, storyline, plot, etc etc, is coincidental at best and inspired at worst. Or inspired at best and coincidental at worst, whichever makes you happier. 
> 
> As it is my brain child, if you like the story, characters, plot, etc, and want to expand or explore, feel free to do so. If you’re going to, please please please send at least a nod in my direction. Thank you in advance. 
> 
> Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, enjoy my “brainchild gone rogue” >.<

Darkness. Noiseless. Peace. These days it was hard to come by for me. You see, I’m a spy for, well, an organization. The Organization, if you will. They don’t work for any country, but strive for world peace and harmony. And yes, that’s about as difficult as you can imagine. 

I am an agent for them and have been for as long as I can remember. It’s a… “family” business. Aka they take orphans and raise them. I was one of those orphans. 

I had an excellent childhood. Much more fulfilling than you would expect. See, The Organization doesn’t make you become an agent. They take you from orphanages and foster care around the world, raise you, and only if you want to do they train you to become an agent. There are many people around the world who were raised by The Organization and are not agents. Of course, everyone is trained in multiple areas of self defense so they can keep themselves safe. 

If The Organization adopts you, you already have a much better quality of life than almost anywhere in the world. There you can do exactly what you want to when you want to. You want to go to a traditional school? That can be arranged. You want to learn about painting and focus on that? 1000% achievable. 

It wasn’t all freedom though. There were some things required. Like you had to learn multiple languages. How and which languages you learned was up to you. You also had to learn how to live in the real world. So reading, writing, general world history, basic math, basic finances, how to check fluid levels in many kinds of cars, how to change tires; anything practical and necessary for life in any environment. And of course, self defense. 

I was dreaming of my childhood before I was jarred awake by possibly the most nauseatingly high pitched sound ever. My muscles screamed and my face ached. My head was pounding and the hard floor actually felt good as it was cold and I felt overly heated. 

Time was hard to calculate when you were tied up in a dark room and kept on the verge of conscious and unconscious. I mentioned I was an agent, yes? Well this agent was currently being held captive in some unknown country. 

All of my captors spoke English, some were accented but there were accents from the world over so it was hard to pinpoint where I might be. My current guesses were Canada, America, South Africa, Australia, or the UK in order of most to least likely. Although, I had the sneaking suspicion I might be in some third world country as well. 

The temperature of my “cage” constantly altered so I had no real idea of anything. It was a good tactic. One I would have used. Just not on anyone like me. It gave me much more intimate knowledge about this place than they would like to admit. 

I always felt a breeze when they were trying to cool the place down so I knew no matter where I was it was warm so either summer or a warm climate. Or both perhaps. 

The door was interesting as well. It always took exactly 3 minutes for the door to open after I first heard footsteps approaching, if I was awake to hear it. There was always the sound of electronic clicking as well, so a modern locked door with some kind of keypad before it unlocked. 

The way they tied me up gave me knowledge as well. They tied my hands up behind my back and hobbled my legs so I could stand but couldn’t lift my legs or run. Someone was intelligent with knots because the rope only got tighter when I tried to wiggle out of them. Someone knew types of rope because this rope was very high quality and while it wore into me, it took a long time to actually cause bleeding. And that only happened because I had wiggled my ropes too tight. I’d almost lost a hand before they realized what I’d done. I’d learned not to do that again. 

Somehow, I was kept fed. I assumed someone was injecting me with nutrients when I was unconscious. My muscles were atrophying in less time than I had expected which either meant I had spent less time here than I assumed or they had some wonder drug. I expected the less time was more likely.

Like many other times, I was woken to the view of someone’s boot as they were sat in a chair near me. They had heavy duty protective headgear, and the sound continued until they were sure I was awake. Aka until I was writhing on the floor from the pressure in my head. 

Abruptly the sound stopped and I was left with ringing ears and a splitting headache worse than any hangover. The woman sitting in the chair pulled off the headgear, fixed her wavy brown hair, and then glanced at me. 

I couldn’t hear what she said but I understood it anyway. It was the same question she and others had asked me time and time again. 

“Will you tell me what I want to know now?” Or something close to the same. 

She hadn’t told me her name. None of my torturers had. Why would they? That was bad practice and I would have been surprised if they had. So I had named them all. One person even looked so irate at the fact that I was calling him a name other than his, I had decided to use as many names as I knew or could think of to call him by. He had become so furious after a long time of multiple names he had beaten me until I was almost dead. I hadn’t seen him since then. I assumed he was the dead one now. 

The woman before me today I had named Vivian. I liked her. If she wasn’t my enemy, we probably would have been great friends. She spoke almost nearly as many languages as I did. She had a raunchy sense of humor, had great personal style, and I could tell she wasn’t straight. Even though I was tied up, bruised and beaten she would constantly side eye me. The people holding me knew this and used it to their advantage. Of course, it was to my advantage too. I was wearing her down slowly and surely. At least I hoped I was. 

“Vivian, when are you going to untie me so I can bend you over that chair and fuck you?” I spoke to her. I wiggled my ass and watched as she quickly glanced without moving at the jiggling mass. The eye roll was implied as she only raised an eyebrow. 

She spoke again. My ears were still ringing and couldn’t hear her. But she knew I could read her lips. 

“When you tell me what you know, you will get whatever reward you desire.” 

“Ears are ringing. Can’t hear a thing. So sorry,” I apologized, my face blank and bored. I cracked a wide smile before continuing. “You know you want a piece of this ass though. It would be so easy to untie me and we could 69. I’m sure everyone on the other side of whatever camera is here would enjoy the show.” 

I watched her face begin a small blush and noticed a minute shift of her hips. These small cues were what made me certain she liked my dirty talk. 

“I know I would love to put on a show. Get a strap on dildo, have one of us wear it while the other one rides reverse cowgirl right in front of the camera. I know that would be a great view. If it’s a good camera, the zoom and close up would be amazing. 

“Talk about a show. Tits and ass and juices flying everywhere. Someone would record that for personal use. Probably take it home to wank their embarrassingly tiny dicks to. Unless Big Dick McPretty-Boy is in there watching. 

“Ooo what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when he masturbates. Bet he shoots off so intensely that he hits the opposite wall. I know I’d only wank in the shower if I had a dick like that. 

“Oh my god I wonder what it would be like to fuck him in the shower. Have you ever wondered that Vivian? I bet you have. I bet you were trained with him and he and you have some history or unresolved chemistry and the room just vibrates with energy with you two in it. 

“God that would be hot, watching him fuck you. Unless you’re only into girls. But I don’t think you are. I think you’d love to get him in here with you and me, cameras rolling, watching him fuck me, before making me watch you two go at it. 

“Hey I just thought of something. If you get him in here to fuck me, then fuck you, I’ll tell you what you guys want to know,” my tirade was interrupted as Vivian stood to leave, taking the chair with her. “Yeah! Go tell your superiors that. Perhaps they’ll make the executive decision to let that happen. I bet they’ll make a huge deal out of it too. Bring in all the big guns and lots of call girls. Set up a viewing room so everyone can watch as we get fucked by-“ 

The door having opened while I was talking about call girls, shut loudly and decisively. I yelled the last few words as I was rudely cut off. 

“Big Dick McPretty-Boy!!” 

I scoffed at the door closing. 

“Rude. Closing the door before I finished.” 

There was a hissing sound like gas was being released. And that's exactly what it was. They were knocking me unconscious again. 

“Oh great! I hate this stuff it gives me the worse headache!” I complained aloud. I was a practical sort. They needed to know what hurt me and how much it hurt me so they could continue to torture me without killing me. So I never hid any of my reactions. If I did, they would have a harder time gauging how much was too much. It was all in the name of self preservation. And if I acted like some things hurt more than they really did, well that was to make sure I didn’t crack under the increased pressure. 

“Hey Vivian! If someone fucks me while I’m knocked out, video it so I can watch it later!”

That was the last thing I got out before I was pulled under again.


End file.
